Struggling Towards Death
by Iron Chief
Summary: A oneshot that explains some of L's quirks through an illness, and not through autism. Please read and review.


This is my first Death Note fanfic so I hope it turns out well. I wrote this as a challenge issued by Nana (check out her fanfic, "Kids"). Reviews are very much appreciated.

Disclaimer: It's not mine! For the love of God don't sue me!

Struggling Towards Death

Another night of scanning through countless tapes was complete. No significant advances in the Kira case had been made, but L was confident he would solve this mystery. He retired to an unknown area of his recently constructed skyscraper.

"Watari, bring me my pills,"

"Yes, right away" Watari curtly replied and swiftly went to retrieve the small capsule.

L opened it up and inside contained a concoction of pills of different shapes and sizes. And even in medicine L cannot forget his sweets as evidenced by the "Flinstones" vitamin pill among them.

"Agh!"

With no forewarning, L began to cough violently and grasped his chest in agony. He fell to the ground; still careful to not allow the pills to fall from his grip he propped himself up to one knee and tried to assume his standard sitting position, but only succeeding with raising one leg up. The capsule of pills nearly fell from his grasp as he tried to cover his own mouth and stop the blood from spattering the clean floor. His blood began to seep out from between his fingers.

"Quickly L, take the pills," Watari requested, clearly worried of L's failing condition.

And with that he upturned the capsule over his mouth and let the pills fall down into his maw where they were all subsequently swallowed.

"_Blech_, these pills taste terrible Watari. You sure they haven't made these pills chocolate flavored yet?" L asked, his face clearly showing the disgust from swallowing those retched pills.

"No, I'm very sure"

"Watari, bring me some cheesecake."

"L, you know very well you shouldn't be eating sweets with your condition"

"How many times must we go through this Watari?" L snapped back, his brow furrowed with the aggravation that was clearly heard in his voice.

"Sigh Yes L, right away." Watari promptly left to scour the food stocks for some cheesecake. He hated bringing L sweets as it did nothing but damage his already weakening body, but L had convinced him that it was useless to delay the inevitable.

L would die of his illness. No doubt about it. It was only a matter of when and how painful it would be.

L carelessly tossed aside the capsule that held his drugs and approached the sink that was placed there for this very reason; to let him clean the blood from his hands and mouth and the blood that now began to trickle from his nose.

Not the image one would expect from the greatest detective on Earth but this was him at his weakest, and this was always him. The pain was ever-present and the fact he could hide it from Light, who he greatly suspected of being Kira, was a testament to the nearly limitless amount of control he had over himself. But he was still human and thus had his own limits. That's why he had set up this remote room. It was free of cameras and the walls were soundproof, allowing L to scream in his agony should he have to.

L turned on the tap water and allowed the cool liquid to flow over his hands. He watched as his own blood began to drip from the tip of his nose and land in the flow of clear water. The red juice of his life lightly splashed as it encountered the less dense water and made tiny splatters against the inner walls of the sink.

"I've brought many criminals to justice, each with their own sickness of the mind. What would the investigation team think if I had the physical illness to match Kira's mental illness?" L pondered quietly to himself, something he had thought about since day one of meeting Soichiro and the others.

Should he tell them of his terminal illness? No, it'd be detrimental to the investigation L had reasoned. They would not look at L as a leader but rather as an Achilles' heel to the team. Not only that, but it would not bring him closer to affirming Light as being Kira. L knew that all his actions had to be useful in bringing Kira to justice. Moves for no reason would be wasted moves and would cost him precious time.

That was exactly who L's true enemy was at this moment; time.

The concealed door slid open soundlessly as Watari walked in slowly, his shoulders slumped to show his despondency at having to present to L his sweet poison.

"Here you are L, the cheesecake you asked for"

L turned the faucet and stopped the flow of water. Grabbing a towel, he dried his hands and wiped away the dried blood below his nostrils.

"Thank you Watari."

A deathly-ill silence fell over the two of them as L took his place in the lone chair in the room, taking his customary posture, and began to munch on his delicious cheesecake (AN: mmm, cheesecake drool). Watari could no longer stand the incessant sound of L's chewing and swallowing of this sweetened toxin.

"L! Stop doing this to yourself! You're killing yourself like this!" pleaded Watari. "Do you know how I feel having to bring you these candies that are deteriorating your body!?"

L stopped a moment and looked up thoughtfully.

"It must feel rather terrible" L replied in a straight and even tone.

"Dammit L! I can't bear to see you like this"

L watched Watari and began to see moisture develop at the edge of his eyes. What a strange thing, L thought, to be sad over something he knew of for many years now.

--------------------------------------

A young boy sits on a beautiful marble floor, an unfinished jigsaw puzzle before him. He picks up a piece, eyes it for a moment, and places it arbitrarily on the floor away from the pile of other puzzle pieces. He looks no older than 12 years and the puzzle box indicates a total of 5000 pieces. He picks up another piece and again places it arbitrarily away from the first piece he put down. He repeats this for a few minutes more until a young woman approaches.

"Lawliett, it's going to be 3 o'clock soon. Master Quillsh Wammy wanted to take you somewhere." The young lady says in her cheery British accent, smiling as she bends down to talk to the small boy.

The young boy turns around and it indeed is L. His hair is as scruffy as it's always been and the characteristic dark circles under his eyes are still present. A different look is in his eyes though, a vibrant spirit that belies the genius that is underneath. The look of happiness that one only knows as a child.

He looks up at the woman, smiles, and says "Okay!" He stands up, wearing his traditional garb of plain blue jeans and a white t-shirt (no shoes either), and runs off to the front of the Wammy House.

"sigh That boy never learns to pick up his toys. Heh," The young maid lowers herself down to the floor and picks up the pile of unused jigsaw-puzzle pieces and dumps them into their box. As she reaches for the pieces that had been arranged so neatly, she stops and quietly gasps. What she thought was a clump of connected pieces was in fact quite the opposite. There were about half of all the pieces forming the American Civil War image depicted on the cover; the striking part was that **none** of the pieces were connected with each other.

Once L reached the front of the orphanage he pushed open the large wooden door blocking his passage and runs down the stairs. There, waiting for him, stands a middle-aged Quillsh wearing a very expensive looking suit and tie and holding open the back door of a 1979 Rolls-Royce Silver Shadow II.

"How are you today L?" Sir Wammy asks, his mustache almost hiding the smile he wears addressing the young L.

L replies with a curt "good" and quickly hops inside the car. Quillsh tells L of the shoes that are already inside for him to put on and also a pair of socks if he decides to change his mind and promptly closes the door.

Even when he walks to the driver's side you can see the dignity that emanates from Wammy's posture and stride.

Comfortably inside the Rolls-Royce, Wammy securely buckled himself in and told L to do the same. Wammy chuckled at himself though, knowing very well that L would not and would be sitting in his odd position as always.

"Where are we going today?" inquired L with enthusiasm. It wasn't often he was taken outside the orphanage and the times he had gone out were a lot of fun for the young boy.

"It's a surprise"

L began to pout at hearing this. "Aww, you know I don't like surprises!"

"Ha ha, okay I'll give you a hint: It's a place that will make you feel better."

That being said, L contemplated the hint over in his mind.

'To feel better. When you say "to make you feel better" there comes the implication that there is something wrong. What is it that is wrong? I did all my homework and I placed first among the other students in the test, so academics have to be ruled out. There were those bullies who broke my puzzles the other day. I was sad for a moment but I was much better after seeing them punished for it. Wammy even asked me if I was okay and I responded as such. Could there be something else that I'm forgetting? These sorts of attacks never bothered me much before though, and Wammy knows that. Mental and Emotional wellness have to be ruled out. Wait. Wellness. A Wellness Center. A Hospital. You only go to the hospital for physical wellness. Yes, that's it!'

Before L could react to realization that he was being taken to the hospital against his will, Wammy had locked the rear doors electronically from the front. Wammy keeps his eyes on the road and says nothing as L watches him for a moment through the rear-view mirror. L takes a cautious glance outside the window and sees a sign mounted on a sturdy stone standing; Evelina Childrens Hospital.

He was trapped and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. A phrase he had once heard on a television show came to mind, "Resistance is futile." He knew there was absolutely no point in resisting. In fact, he began to blame himself for not predicting this outcome sooner.

"This thing called 'trust' will kill me one day," he says to himself. "How could I be so stupid to not figure this out earlier? Of course he found out about my coughing and bleeding. And he must have found out someway that I hadn't been sleeping."

The care pulled to the front of the hospital and stopped there as a team of doctors in white lab coats holding clipboards waited. Wammy lets himself out of the car and greets the doctors.

He approaches the one doctor in front who seemed to have authority over the others and asks, "Are you the doctor whom I spoke with on the phone?"

The doctor nods very politely and responds, "Yes, I am Dr. Narino. Is that the boy you told me of?" The doctor looks past Wammy and gestures over to L who is still in the car. Wammy simply nods in agreement. "Very well, we should begin the tests immediately. From what you've told me over the phone, he could have a myriad of illnesses wrecking havoc in his body."

While this conversation is going on, L had been pondering how he could escape. Talking with Wammy would not get him out of this as it seemed Wammy was very determined for L to undergo whatever it was these doctors wanted him to go through. He had to formulate a plan of escape. The rear doors were still locked though. He'd only have _one_ chance at this.

"Dr. Cravens, would you care to go and bring the boy here?" the first doctor, Dr. Narino, said more as a demand then a question.

"Right away doctor," was the quick response of the second doctor.

He advanced towards the Rolls-Royce and opened the rear door wide.

"C'mon boy, we're not gonna hurt you"

L cautiously slid his way over to the side of the doctor. Just as he reached the edge of the seat he thought to himself "NOW!" and he delivered a swift (and agonizing) kick to the doctor's crotch. Dr. Cravens at once fell to the ground holding his no-no parts through his khaki pants. The others, still in shock at what L had just done, didn't react until L had jumped out of the car and began to run for the gate.

Dr. Narino ran up to the fallen Dr. Cravens, grabbed the radio strapped to his belt, and ordered security to close the front gates and capture the runaway patient.

With all his strength, L ran for the gate, his only chance of escape. When he saw it begin to close though, he panicked. From this distance and at the speed he was going at now he would not get to the gate in time. He had to run faster. L pushed his legs to their limit and ran at his breakneck speed. L felt that he could make it; he could just escape out of this damnable place and be rid of Wammy from ever taking him back.

A sudden shock ended his exuberance though. A pain shot through L's whole body and he collapsed in agony. A violent cough overtook him and he saw his own blood spray the green grass he collapsed on. In the moment his cough paused, he looks up at the gate, his only means of escape, and watches as it ever-so-slowly draws closer to the brown stone wall. With the lock catching in place, L knew his fate was proverbially sealed. His breathing grew heavier and he felt like a hammer was striking his chest over and over, three seconds apart. He watched, almost in slow-motion, as the doctors from before rushed to him along with Wammy. One took out a small flashlight and shined it into L's eyes. At the contact of light, his pupils contracted and his face became pale. A sudden sweating erupted from every pore of his body and L lost consciousness as his first wave of seizures hit.

The pain knocks L out of his unconscious state. His whole body feels sore and then he notices the multitude of tubes sticking out from him. He hears the traditional beeping that measures his heart rate and watches the up-and-down motion of what he can only guess is pumping oxygen to the mask on his face, helping him breathe. He looks to his right and sees that there is a glass window and even more startling to him, Wammy and the doctor he had kicked were talking on the other side of the window. He couldn't hear what they said, but their looks told him everything he needed to know. The bewildered look on the doctor's face told him they didn't know what was wrong with him. The slumping shoulders and melancholy look on Wammy's face told him that he regretted bringing L here.

----------------

"Sir Wammy, we've put your boy, L, through just about every diagnostics test we have available. We can't discern what exactly is wrong with his body. The CAT scan showed that there are no tumors or any other type of cancer in his brain or body. Blood samples showed that there couldn't be any parasites either. The deterioration we monitored does not match any known diseases. For the love of God, we can't even tell why he coughs up blood!"

"So you're telling me these tests were all a waste then doctor?"

"No, I can assure you that it was _not_ a waste. We may be able to treat L with a variety of medications. By eliminating all sweets from his diet he should be able to regain his strength and slow down the deterioration. And there is another thing we learned out of these tests. Please, sit down"

Wammy took his seat and braced himself for the bad news he was sure would come out of this damn American doctor's mouth.

The doctor, Dr. Cravens, took a deep breath and broke the news to the Englishman that sat in front of him, his suit all disheveled from three days of worry during L's coma.

"Sir, from what we monitored, the deterioration in his body will kill him one day. I'm sorry, but this, this – illness, is terminal." Finishing the news, the doctor got up and decided it was best to leave Wammy alone in the room to ponder it for a moment.

And ponder it Wammy did. That is, until the doctor had closed the door in which moment Wammy felt no social pressure on him and began lamenting for L. His tears fell to the floor and Wammy was grateful that damn doctor had closed the door.

----------------- --------------------------------------

"Watari, for all my life I've been in pain. Those years that you removed these sweets from my life were some of the worst memories I have. The pain became more pronounced those years until I could stand no longer and I broke into that candy shop one night and stole all I could fit into my pillow bag. Remember that Watari? I think I was 16 then and had just finished solving a case. I stole what I could and ate handfuls of whatever they had in jars. Their security system was a joke. And for the first time in years I could really think properly. The pain had receded and I almost collapsed in relief."

A smile appears on L's face as he takes another bite of his cheesecake.

"Before then I had taken to sitting in what you had called 'odd' when you first met me. I learned that if I could cut off the blood flow a little it would dull the pain and make it easier for me to think. Not wearing shoes came later after I figured some shoes made it nearly impossible to sit in such a fashion." He chuckles for a moment at a memory that popped in his mind at this moment. "But I couldn't sleep that way. I could only stay awake for as long as possible and hope for sleep to overtake me. Until which the pain would come back stronger than before and arouse me from sleep."

L takes a glance over at Watari, still standing near the hidden doorway in his customary suit and tie, and promptly took the last bite of his cheesecake.

"This caek, these sweets and sugars are the only thing that can keep the pain away for just a moment. I will take these moments of clarity and a short life over a longer life of agony Watari."

A solemn Watari nods slowly and leaves the room so L can ponder his business.

With Watari gone, L was able to think more deeply.

"I wonder how much longer I have to live," considers L. "And I wonder; will Kira, or rather Light, kill me before my illness does?"

------------------------------------------------------

And there you are! My first Death Note fanfic. I hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Leave a good review and flames are welcome as well since it's fookin cold here where I'm at .

My thanks go to Nana for issuing the challenge, some of my RL friends for proof-reading it, and to everyone at the Justice Forums.


End file.
